


Fire without, fire within

by masserect



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Bathtubs, Community: badbadbathhouse, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masserect/pseuds/masserect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Dojima has the house to himself and takes a moment to relax in the bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire without, fire within

The house was dark, empty and silent when he returned from work. Ryotaro Dojima sighed as he turned the key in the door. It was rare for him to be home alone, without Nanako (and these days, Souji) being there to greet him, and it did not feel right. Even when he knew where they were, knew the company they kept wasn't going to land them in trouble.

It _was_ nice to have a few moments to himself, though, after being stuck with that nitwit Adachi all day, after making no progress at all on the case for the _n_ th day in a row. He'd damn well earned it.

He hummed tunelessly as he ran a bath. He had been stuck searching through the archives at the station for almost an hour before he could leave, and the dust got in everywhere.

He poured a glass of scotch as the tub filled up and brought it with him, setting it on a little shelf that was probably supposed to hold the soap before he sank into the steaming water. It was almost too hot, just barely tolerable, but _fuck_ , it felt good. He took a swig of the whisky and that, too, burned. Heat inside and out. Fire without, fire within. There was nothing more relaxing than this.

Dojima leaned back, closing his eyes. One hand trailed lazily down his chest and stomach, fingers wrapping lightly around his cock. His hand was warm, but the water was hotter, and the touch seemed almost cool.

How long had it been? he wondered as he stroked himself slowly. 

It didn't matter. 

He allowed himself another swig before dropping his other hand below the water as well, left curling around the base of his cock and cupping his balls, right stroking the tip. 

Fuck, he'd been holding this in for weeks. 

It wasn't long before he felt the familiar tightening, felt the blood pounding in his ears as his cock grew thicker and harder, felt the electric pressure building in his crotch and lower stomach, ready to explode and shoot out through his entire body.

His right hand pumped faster, guided more by primal instinct than any rational thought. The left tightened, squeezing the base of his shaft. Tightened even further just as he felt the probability shift to certainty.

"-fuck!"

His cock throbbed and twitched, but all that emerged was a single drop of thick come, instantly dispersed in the hot water.

He grit his teeth, kept moving, kept squeezing, hips jerking upwards, sending water splashing over the side of the tub. Just once wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough. 

His cock ached, but remained hard.

Arm trembling slightly, he released his grip and raised his left hand, taking another swig of the whisky, wetting his suddenly dry mouth.

Fuck. It had been far too long.

The glass clattered as he set it down, right hand already speeding up again.

His breath was hot in his throat, his heart pounding. That sensation - like lightning building up before a strike - had not gone away, merely receded slightly, and it was building again, faster and stronger.

His jaw ached, breath hissing through clenched teeth. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping into the water.

He let out a growl as he finally shot his load, several long, powerful spurts, come curling white and mistlike in the hot, clear water; feeling electricity burn through him, setting every nerve on fire; his entire body rigid except for the hand moving with short, fast strokes, tightly wrapped around the head of his cock.

But it couldn't last forever, and he was softening even before the sensations abated, leaving him gasping, with coloured spots dancing before his eyes.

His hands were shaking as he leaned back against the tub and raised them, dully registering the sticky white mess on his fingers.

He'd have to clean the tub, he realized, vaguely in the back of his head, and let his hands fall back into the water with a splash.

But it had been fucking worth it.


End file.
